


boy when you know you'll know

by ashintuku



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gen, Rogue One Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:49:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9210641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashintuku/pseuds/ashintuku
Summary: He would wake up in his cold bed, the ice still in his veins, and think he was still There. Still with Them, in that Place that was replaced with a sun – would still think he would look up and see the frozen, looming mask of Her above his sleeping body.





	

Sometimes when Finn woke up, he would forget where he was. 

The beds in the Resistance base were hard, uncomfortable squares, sheets thin and blankets retaining no heat but his. For people like Rey, or Poe, who carried heat within their skin like Jakku sunrises and Yavin IV summers, it was more likely than not enough – but Finn carried the ice and snow of Starkiller Base. Cold hands, cold feet, cold skin – it settled along the metal of the butterfly-clips that sewed his back together; settled deep into the worn, smoothed edges of skin where plastoid armour had once rubbed snugly, wearing down on him until he was nothing better than a clone. 

He would wake up in his cold bed, the ice still in his veins, and think he was still There. Still with Them, in that Place that was replaced with a sun – would still think he would look up and see the frozen, looming mask of Her above his sleeping body. 

The only thing that made him remember was the orange and white droid that guard-watched him in his sleep, beeping and blooping cheerfully whenever he opened his eyes. 

Groaning, he slowly sat up as BB-8 rolled up to him, its roly-poly body bumping the edge of the bedframe and its dome swivelling so that its lens looked intently up at him, dark and watchful and knowing. He blinked tiredly down at the droid, before reaching out and running his palm along its cool dome, feeling the chill from his hand get swept away by the undercurrent of warm circuits working underneath heat-resistant metal. 

“Poe ask you to come get me?” 

BB-8 released a musical trill of whirrs, squeaks and whistles, rocking back and forth before butting into Finn’s hand like a child looking for attention, and Finn smiled and shook his head. He ran his hand over its dome again, pushing himself fully onto his feet and huffing out a sigh as he stretched out his back. The pale, fresh line of skin, looking so much a crooked divider along his spine, ached as he arched, and he squeezed his eyes shut before padding over to his dresser and pulling out one of his few shirts. 

“Droid, please – you know I can’t understand you for a second.” 

BB-8 sing-songed something that sounded like an admonishment, and Finn hid his grin as he pulled on the soft grey shirt he’d grabbed; a steal from Poe’s closet, when the pilot had been too busy waxing poetic about Rey’s piloting skills one long, lazy day that he was grounded for repairs. Once everything was straightened and front-wise and where it was meant to be, Finn grabbed his cane, turned to BB-8, and gave a lopsided smile. 

“We ready?” 

BB-8 rolled around in a quick circle, looped around him, and nudged at the back of his legs gently, and Finn grinned outright as he allowed himself to be herded out of his room and into the base proper. 

(Starkiller didn’t have such friendly droids.) 

~+~

“Finn!” 

Finn looked up from his meal, blinking widely as Poe loped his way over to his table and dropped his tray of what pretended to be food in front of him. He then dropped himself into the seat across from the ex-trooper, grinning at him in that lazy, easy way of his, and Finn stared at him for a moment. He reached out and swept back one of Poe’s errant curls, and the pilot’s expression softened. 

“Lookin’ good, buddy – how’s the bed treating you?” 

“It’s a softer touch than a ‘sabre, but not by much. More like a wookie trying to strangle me.” 

“Anything like a rathtar?” 

“No. Rathtars are practically tame.” Poe snorted, and Finn smiled to himself, ducking his head and poking at his breakfast. “You have a busy day?” 

“Nah – just got back from a patrol, actually, so I’m off rotation for a couple of hours. I actually wanted to ask if you could go somewhere with me today.” Finn looked up, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head curiously. Poe smiled at him secretively. “It’s not far – it’s on the base, so you don’t have to worry about trying to find somewhere comfortable in a cockpit. I just wanted you to meet someone.” 

“Who?” 

Poe wrinkled his nose and shook his head, taking a bite out of his breakfast. Finn narrowed his eyes, waiting for an answer, but Poe didn’t say anything, and it made the younger man wonder who his friend wanted him to meet so badly. 

“So can you come with me later? Say closer to lunchtime? I know you and Rey have to go meditate with Skywalker or whatever it is you Force-sensitive people do these days.” 

“I’m barely Force-sensitive, Poe.” 

Poe looked up at him, frowning. 

“Skywalker said you have some of the strongest empathy he’s ever witnessed before – on the level of Obi-Wan Kenobi. You _felt_ when the Hosnian system was destroyed, Finn – not even Rey felt that, and she’s the first really strong Force-user that anyone’s seen in nearly a decade.” 

“So? I can’t use it for anything else. Can’t move things or properly wield a lightsabre or—”

“The General can’t do any of that, either, but you’d still consider her a Force user, wouldn’t you?” 

Finn snapped his mouth shut with a click of his teeth, glaring at Poe for a moment before sighing and looking away. He flinched when Poe touched his hand, and the other man withdrew immediately, but kept his hand close. 

“You don’t have to be an amazing warrior to be a Jedi, Finn. You gotta know that.” 

“All I gotta know is that I’m a broken ‘trooper who can’t even fight anymore.” Finn paused, before shaking his head and smiling weakly up at Poe. “Sorry, I didn’t sleep all that well. ‘Course I’ll meet up with you at lunchtime.” 

“Finn—”

Finn stood up, picked up his tray of barely-eaten food and stepped away from the table before Poe could finish speaking. He gave a quick wave to the pilot, turning towards the trash shoot; barely noticing when BB-8 conferred with Poe before rolling after him hastily, beeping and singing plaintively. 

~+~

Rey and Skywalker were already meditating on the roof when Finn finally came up to join them. Without saying anything, he dropped down beside Rey, closed his eyes, and breathed in as deeply as his healed back would allow; the fresh, cold, damp air of D’Qar settling deep into his bones and making all the creaking, abused joints of a childhood spent training whine in protest. 

The air around them was thick and heavy, and Finn could feel the swirling, conflicting peace and terror of Skywalker’s duality; feel the shadowed sun of Rey as she remembered Jakku and a family who abandoned her, but also remembered the warm embrace of a General-Princess and the cold comfort of a mechanical hand offering her guidance. 

Finn quietly drowned out thoughts and memories of soldiers in chrome and white and dusty, bloody red; drowned out the memories of blaster fire and holes torn into hulls by his own hands; bodies of friends and comrades and pseudo-siblings sucked into the black void of space.

Finn breathed in deeply, breathing out FN-2187, and surrounded himself in stars and suns and moons, drowning out the vacuum of the First Order and everything it stood for. 

~+~

“I thought you said it wasn’t far.” 

“It’s not!” Poe said cheerfully, throwing his arm over Finn’s shoulders as they walked across the lengthy expanse of the base. BB-8 trailed behind them, swerving and muttering to itself as they passed through crowds of different Resistance personnel. Rey watched them from the hangar where she stood with Chewie, the old wookie telling her about this, that and the other problem with the _Falcon_. 

It was always the same story with that old freighter, Finn thought. There was always one problem or another, from the motivator to the warp drive to anything else. Finn sometimes thought that Han was still a part of the ship, alive in its metal and circuits, and caused problems even now so that they would never forget him. 

It brought him a sense of comfort that the thought of Han becoming one with the Force never had. 

“It’s on the complete opposite side of base from anything I know.” 

“Well, we can’t exactly have the civilians living amongst the soldiers, can we?” 

“Wait, there are _civilians_ here?” 

Poe blinked, looking down at Finn, before smiling at him and looking away again. 

“Of course there are – the Resistance offers protection to people who need to hide from the Order, y’know. And not everyone hiding can fight. Kids, or the elderly. Whatever-have-you. I’ve asked my dad to come down a couple times, since it’s pretty well-known I’m part of the Resistance.” Poe snorted, then, shaking his head. “Old man told me he was a Rebel before I was even a thought on his mind, and he knew how to take care of himself. Last time I brought it up.” 

“Oh.” Finn blinked, jostled slightly as Poe dragged him along. He barely needed to use the cane in his hand, the end dragging along the cracked pavement; the scratch of it a constant in the back of his mind. People moved around the two of them, friends waving and strangers staring at them curiously; openly. Wondering at the ace pilot who wasted his time with the turncoat ‘trooper, waiting for the day Finn proved himself some kind of spy or plant. 

He wondered if he’d ever get out of the Order’s shadow; if the chill would ever leave him behind. He shivered, and Poe tightened his arm across his shoulders. 

“Ah—here we are! Mrs Rook, I’m not late for lunch, am I?” 

“Well you aren’t _early_ ,” an elderly woman’s voice called out, and Finn watched as a small, stooped woman with dark skin and warm, wrinkled eyes came out of the doorway Poe had stopped them in front of. 

She was slight, and frail, and obviously older than many of the senior members of the Resistance, with grey-white hair and gnarled hands that clutched onto a cane probably as old as him. She wore bright, bright colours, and had an easy smile, and as she took in the sight of Poe and Finn in front of her, she seemed to straighten up and brighten as she grinned; teeth straight and white. 

“My apologies, Mrs Rook,” Poe said diplomatically, stepping forward and sweeping her a bow. “I had to grab my friend, here, and he’s not moving as quickly as he’s generally used to. Might I introduce you to Finn?” 

“The fine young man who left the First Order,” Mrs Rook said, appraising Finn for a moment before turning back towards her home. “Well, come inside, then. I made sandwiches and kaff.” 

“Blessings upon you and yours, Mrs Rook.” 

“Hush up, dear.” 

Finn blinked after her, looking at Poe to see him smiling easily at him. With a tug of his hand, and the slightest of nudges from BB-8 just behind him, he stumbled into the little homestead and looked around while Poe hummed beside him. 

Mrs Rook’s home was plain, but lived-in and comfortable, and she had holos all over the place. A few of a man and a woman, who were obviously herself and her husband throughout the years; one or two of her as a younger girl with what seemed to be friends, or sisters. Most of them were taken in a desert-looking town, with a temple in the background, and Finn wondered about the location and woman and why her named sounded so familiar. 

It was when he came across the holo of a young man he _had_ seen before, years ago in a classroom as the droids taught about traitors, that he realized. 

“That’s my Bodhi,” Mrs Rook said from beside his elbow, and Finn looked down at her, wide-eyed and nervous, to see her staring at the picture of Bodhi Rook the Pilot. Her face was faraway and sad, but there was a smile on her face. “I remember when he left home the first time to join the Academy. Told me he was gonna be a pilot – gonna make his father proud. His father died before he was very old, you see – accident out in the desert fields. Nobody’s fault, it was just his time. But I raised my Bodhi on stories of him, and he built up this figure of a great man – and he told himself he had to match him somehow.” Mrs Rook sighed heavily, then, through her nose; eyes closed and grip tight on her cane. 

“I wasn’t on Jedha the day it was destroyed – Bodhi’s pay had gotten me off of the planet, to some fancy planet where it was green and the climate was comfortable for once. He told me he wanted to make sure I lived a good life, and moving me there was just the first step. Only my sister was visiting that day, which I have been thankful for every day since – when I learned Jedha City was destroyed by the Empire, my heart broke. I had family, y’know. Friends. My parents. All of them just... gone.” 

She breathed in again, shaky and unsteady, and Finn wondered if he should help her sit down. BB-8 purred against his calves, and he couldn’t see where Poe had disappeared off to; just heard him puttering around somewhere out of sight, leaving him alone with the woman. 

“And then I heard these rumours that a pilot had turned on the Empire – that my _Bodhi_ had turned traitor. And I knew that something terrible was happening in our galaxy, because why on earth would Bodhi turn his back on something he had worked so hard towards? He was a good boy, my Bodhi. Not the bravest of men, or the strongest, but a good boy. He had a big heart, and he knew right from wrong as well as you and me.” She blinked hard, and then turned to look at Finn, and he froze as her warm, dark eyes caught his and held. 

“Something made my boy look at his life – look at the things he chose to ignore, because it was _easier_ – and decide that he wasn’t going to ignore it anymore for people who were in the wrong. My boy decided that his conscious was more important than keeping his head down and his hands clean. I’m told he decided to do the greatest thing that anyone could ever do.” 

“...What’s that, ma’am?” 

“He gave people _hope_.” Finn swallowed, and Mrs Rook stared at him for a moment longer before smiling gently and reaching out, placing her hand over his; pressing against whitened knuckles as he clutched to his own cane. 

“Why don’t you sit down a spell with me, Finn – Poe has told me all kinds of stories about you, and I feel like you and I have lots of things we can talk about.” 

Finn looked down at her for a second longer, BB-8 nudging him gently behind the legs. He closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, and the warmth of the homestead around him settled onto his shoulders in his hands, chasing away the chill of Starkiller Base with the ease of a blanket or a hot meal. He then looked back down at Mrs Rook and smiled faintly; her eyes crinkling in the corners in response. 

“...I think I’d like that, ma’am.”

**Author's Note:**

> I need name drops of the Rogue One people in the Main Saga too, okay, I NEED them, Finn would look at Bodhi Rook and see so much of himself in him I just??? Please.


End file.
